SUMMER SWAP 2 // Chapter 19

Scarlet had arranged him the way she wanted: On his back, midway up the bed, his hipbone touching Cheyenne’s cheek, then taking his right leg and bending it behind him to angle him forward. It put his aching penis in Cheyenne’s face.

Cheyenne had traveled to some other worldly plane. Totally transported by vigorous fucking to a whole different dimension. It was like she saw him, but saw through him. When their eyes met, he wasn’t sure what to say, but Scarlet was there, taking over. “That’s it, little lady,” Scarlet said, bent over him, naked, breasts swaying. She held Cheyenne’s face with a knuckle under her chin and her thumb below Cheyenne’s bottom lip. “You’re a beautiful one. We’ll get them coming in two at a time, and you’re going to make me rich.”

Cody said, “Unless we wear a hole in her.”

Scarlet said, “You said yourself she can’t stop gushing. I just think we need to keep her hydrated,” patting Chey’s cheek and getting her eyelashes to flutter.

Scarlet had never done theater in her life. Yeah, they watched a lot of movies together, but he had no idea where his wife was scrounging up this “brothel” character from. What worked in his wife’s mind that would provoke such delight in sexual torment?

Now Scarlet said—still using that ridiculous cowboy twang, “You best keep fucking her, cowboy. I think she’s coming out of her spell.”

Cody said, “We wouldn’t want that,” hooked a forearm under Cheyenne’s left knee, climbing up on the bed so he was off the floor now and on his knees on the mattress. Sully didn’t think the guy’s long dick came out of Cheyenne once during his movement.

Cheyenne jostled and sighed and grunted, her breath puffing on Sully’s scrotum. Given his wife’s demeanor, he was worried now he would become a subject in Scarlet’s wild sexual theater. Like the woman she was showing him now might someday turn the tables on him, get a bunch of people pushing all his buttons and making him go out of his mind.

Though that didn’t sound like a bad thing at all.

Even though it was obvious Cheyenne received extreme delight and satisfaction from this, it was also apparent that Scarlet took great delight in it as well. But he wasn’t sure what his role would be, or what way he could keep up with Cody and Scarlet. Like, he didn’t think he could do that cowboy voice at all. Not that he was self-conscious, he just didn’t have confidence in his theatrical abilities. What would a— Oh shit, that was right: He was some 1870s businessman traveling the West in a stagecoach all the way from New York City.

Cody lifted Cheyenne’s leg up over his shoulder, Cheyenne’s foot with the toes spread out up by his ear. He began to stroke that thing in and out of her again, and Scarlet couldn’t help herself: Sully watched his wife run her hand down the plated slab of Cody’s muscular midsection, running her fingertips down the guy’s stomach muscles. But it was brief, over in a second, Scarlet—his wife—returning to him, practically purring. She smiled at him, and he showed her one back, like he was afraid she would be mad if he didn’t. She ran her fingernails across his hipbone, circled with thumb and forefinger around the base of his erection. He hissed with pleasure at her touch. Then his wife began to bat the sensitive swollen head of his cock against Cheyenne’s blubbering lips.

Cheyenne’s eyes fluttered, trying to focus on what was presented to her. Scarlet tapped her on the lips again with his cock, and said, “Open up a little, lady. You got another customer.”

Cheyenne complied with no hesitation. Her lips parted, and her cool wet mouth slipped over the head of his cock, her slick velvet tongue rubbing heavenly pleasure down his frenulum and onto his shaft. She closed her mouth and sucked, and once Scarlet had his cock deposited in Cheyenne’s mouth, she cupped her hand around Cheyenne’s neck, thumb and fingers curling the base Cheyenne’s cranium. She guided her friend to suck on him.

He groaned and his eyes fluttered—much like Cheyenne’s did. The intense feeling on the engorged and super-sensitive tip of his hardest erection enveloped and overwhelmed him, taking control of him like swimming into an undertow. And as Cody fucked her faster, Cheyenne now found herself in a better position, bringing up a hand, gripping the base of Sully’s cock, and sucking him earnestly. The things Cody did to her would sometimes consume Cheyenne’s attention, and she would stop to gasp and pant, her eyes closed. She really was transported somewhere else.

What Scarlet did for Chey and what Cody did—and most of all, what fucking Byron did—was the greatest gift of pleasure you could offer someone. Total abandonment. Sexual freefall. Every weird and dirty little kink that folded in your secret creases like a pearl in an oyster was exposed, brought out to the sunlight for kisses and touches and caresses. This was the kind of sexual pleasure no one ever achieved in their life. This truly was a gift from Byron to his wife. He felt happy to participate. Felt happy that Cheyenne was getting what she wanted. Happy that she had such a good friend in Scarlet. Like, there was no way he would touch Byron’s dick in some scenario like this—but Scarlet rolled her sleeves up and was doing everything it took to send her friend in a launch pattern for the orbit. So while Cheyenne sucked on his cock, doing it hungrily, sometimes messily, her saliva rolling down his shaft and onto the bedding, he took Scarlet’s hand, her wedding-finger hand, slipped her skinny fingers between his and kissed the back of it. She looked down and gave him a warm smile.

He frowned and showed her an expression of sudden discomfort and anguish. He mouthed to her, “I think I’m going to come.”

Scarlet only nodded. He would like a little more direction than that. It seemed like no holds were barred in this free-for-all match, but at the same time, he would hate to just ejaculate and then feel bad about it later.

He scissored his fingers against hers, getting her attention again. More urgently, he mouthed once more, “I think I’m going to come,” and then gave her an emphatic scowl as an exclamation point.

Scarlet looked at him for a moment like he was stupid, then fanned a hand toward Cheyenne. “So? Tell her.”

He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. Confounded and unsure. Well, he’d given her a chance to object...

Cheyenne was in one of those orgasmic pauses where her weak features formed the shape of a silent howling wolf, her brow pinched, eyes shut tight, as Cody fucked her in a way that got her—

There was a percussive bumping on Chey’s flat stomach.

A steady bump-bump-bump like something was inside her tummy and looking for a way out. Cody was so long and hard the head of his cock was pushing against Cheyenne’s frontmost wall enough he could see it.

It was so fucking crazy hot seeing that. Seeing that, and then hearing the squeals and panting of delight from Cheyenne as she rode out the first seizure of her orgasm. Cheyenne loved it. Loved what Cody was doing. Getting fucked hard and deep, her breasts rolling around in wild circles on her chest, her hand loosely gripping his cock, her mouth hanging open.

As Cody pummeled her pussy, those stomach muscles flexing, Chey’s leg—the one extended high, with the foot up by Cody’s ear—shook and trembled. She was still coming. He wasn’t sure what were orgasms and what were almost-orgasms, but Cody delivered a lot of them.

Cody slowed his thrusting, stroking Cheyenne’s thigh, squeezing her knee, then lightly batting at her haunch, light spanks that roused her out of her orgasmic stupor. Chey was breathless, softly exclaiming, “Oh my God, oh my God.”

Scarlet reached down again, took Cheyenne’s head, and said, “Time is money,” and guided her mouth back on to Sully’s cock, poking out one cheek.

It was too much for him. Though he’d restrained himself, all those lashings broke loose at once. His balls rolled over; his stomach tightened and his eyes went to a narrow, pinpoint focus. He did what Scarlet told him, hissing. “Shoot, I’m going to come. Fuck, I’m going to come,” then bit his lower lip, realizing he’d done the cowboy voice after all. Or at least a reasonable New York facsimile. He guessed once you were in it, things just came naturally.

Cheyenne’s reaction was the most surprising. When he told her he was going to come, she didn’t abandon him. She became passionate, working furiously to facilitate the easing of his burden. Her hand stroked quick and hard on the base of his shaft, the heel bashing into his balls. Her head bobbed, her tongue stroked. The pleasure swirled through him like a dynamo, and his head lolled on his shoulders. Scarlet’s face was near his, and he smiled dreamily at his amazing wife. This woman he married just opened a door in her house into a room he didn’t know existed. It was a big room. Spacious. Like a man cave with a big screen TV and all kinds of benches and whips and fancy colorful dildos…

Scarlet kissed him as he began to come. He groaned and grabbed his wife’s neck, grunting, “I’m coming.”

Scarlet hugged her cheek to his, and they both watched as his cock swelled and jumped in Cheyenne’s mouth. Semen overflowed from her lip, then she came up for air, eyes closed, hand stroking clumsily on the end of his cock as it continued to send ropes of his seed across her neck, cheek, and chin. Cheyenne gasped in ecstasy, as if she loved the feel of his hot semen on her skin. He groaned again, the slippery feel of her fingers on his cock and the wild explosive relief juxtaposed with the company of his wife and the unfamiliarity of his sexual partner, had his eyes rolling up in his head. He collapsed next to Cheyenne, curling around the top of her head, stroking her neck and humping his wet cock against her face, chin, and jaw. Cheyenne moaned and ran out her tongue, trying to suck on him again, sometimes just tongue-bathing. The whole time, Scarlet ran circles on his stomach with her fingernails, making strange and low sounds of her own satisfaction, at last, looming over him as Cheyenne rocked against him with Cody’s thrusts, cupping his neck, and kissing his mouth.